


no filter, no shame

by 10softbot



Series: twenty biteen kink fest [8]
Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mirror Sex, Moaning, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 11:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/10softbot
Summary: “Are you gonna fuck me here?” Ten asks, a little breathless, unable to keep quiet. “On the floor like I’m nothing?”“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”[alt: sicheng promises ten some dicking. ten always gets what he wants.]





	no filter, no shame

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this back in may... christ. here it is. i fucking love tenwin  
> kink bingo slot fill: mirrors  
> do not repost without permission.

His lungs burn from exhaustion, the floor cold against his back as he lies down to rest. The music is still booming through the room and ringing in his ears and the boys are still screaming at one another, but he thinks he is going to faint if he keeps going any longer.

He can hear steps close to his head, making their way towards his feet, and then there are hands massaging his calves and he can’t help the groan that builds up his throat.

“You good?” he can recognize Sicheng's voice, soft around the edges, even over the loud music. His fingers dig into his muscles, easing the pain off his legs and he can’t do much but nod. “You still wanna do it?”

He scoffs. “Didn’t know you pegged me for a coward.”

“That’s not–” Sicheng hits him on the shins, not hard enough for it to hurt enough to make it sting. “You know that’s not what I meant! You just seem very tired.”

“I won’t back down,” he opens his eyes to find Sicheng staring at him as if doubting his words. “I’m not backing down, Sicheng. Or are you afraid?”

“Guys!” Kun’s voice interrupts them before Sicheng can reply, the music cutting right after. “You coming home with us?”

“What time is it?” he asks as if he had any intentions on going home right now.

“Uh, barely past eleven? The kids wanna grab hotpot on the way home.”

“Ten,” Yangyang calls out, squeaky sneakers making their way towards him. Ten waits for him to get in his field of vision. “You promised you’d get it with us once you’re back from Thailand!”

He did promise that and he regrets doing it so much right now. He knows the younger ones won’t leave him alone and he can’t find a plausible excuse in his Book Of Excuses for him to stay later in the company when it’s not necessary. Sicheng's fingers dig deeper into his calves and he hisses.

“We’re staying,” Sicheng replies instead, saving him the trouble, and all Ten can do is shoot Yangyang a sympathetic smile.

But Yangyang is like a brick wall sometimes, tough to get information through. He doesn’t get it.

“Why!” there is a pout on his lips and Ten is sure Kun can smell their bullshit with the way he walks over to their youngest and grabs him by the elbow. Yangyang doesn’t bulge. “You promised you’d come.”

“Yangyang–”

“I just wanna–”

“We’re gonna fuck!” Ten blurts out, the chatter in their practice room dying immediately.

Kun covers Yangyang’s ears with his hands, dragging the kid out of the room along with the rest of them with a deadly glare in his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Ten!”

That’s the last they hear from them before the door slams shut, the loud chatter resuming once they are a few steps down the hallway. He barely even notices Sicheng's massaging on his calves has stopped and that he is now staring intently at him.

“Do you ever think about what you’re gonna say before you say it?”

“Don’t give me that, I haven’t been fucked in days.” He allows his eyes to slip shut again, regret settling in his stomach. “You know when you panic and you say the first thing that comes to mind?”

Sicheng doesn’t reply, hands heavy where they rest over his legs.

“I didn’t mean to be that blunt.”

“It’s not me who you have to apologize to,” Sicheng crawls over his body to get face-level to him. “You know Kun is gonna be crawling up the walls once we get back home.”

“I don’t care,” he breathes out, reaching for the back of Sicheng's neck and pulling him down until their lips brush together. Sicheng's eyes glint and Ten absolutely loves it. “This morning you said you’d fuck me tonight.”

Sicheng smiles, pecking him quickly on the lips. “That I did.”

“I hope you didn’t make me stretch my ass in the shower for nothing.”

“How many fingers?” the smile on his lips turns into The Devil’s Grin he loves so much. He knows Sicheng isn’t one to take back his words.

Ten holds his hand up to their faces. “Four. I told you I’m not backing down.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Sicheng tries to sound concerned, but the look in his face and the way he grinds down on his crotch tells him otherwise. Not that he minds, really.

“Has that ever stopped us from fucking?”

They both know the answer.

“No,” Sicheng says nonetheless, lips ghosting over his throat. Ten can feel his fingers starting to buzz. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh, baby,” his voice is barely a whisper, fingers threading through Sicheng's hair when he places a kiss right over his adam’s apple. “I’ll be even better once you fuck me.”

Sicheng's lips are heavenly on his skin, his hands squeezing his hips so hard it might bruise, pining him down on the floor. Ten loves it, the contrast on the softness of his lips and the roughness of his hands, the way he handles him, grinds down on him to get the both of them hard.

“Are you gonna fuck me here?” Ten asks, a little breathless, unable to keep quiet, wrapping his legs around Sicheng's hips to bring him further down. Sicheng moans into his neck. “On the floor like I’m nothing?”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Sicheng smirks against him, grinding a bit harder. He can only hum in response, trying to suppress a moan. “But no. I’m gonna fuck you against the mirror–”

“Oh my god–”

“–so you can see how pretty you look when you have an orgasm.”

“Please,” Ten breathes out, fingers closing tightly on Sicheng’s hair, bringing him down impossibly closer. The imagine in his head is too hot for him to handle, Sicheng’s breath hot on his skin. “Want that so bad.”

“You’re gonna have to keep quiet, though,” Sicheng teases, hands slipping from his waist down to the backs of his thighs, pushing his crotch harsher against his ass. “We don’t want other people hearing us, yeah?”

“Okay,” Ten agrees, even though he knows this is a complete lie. He can’t be quiet even if he wants to and they both know that. Sicheng knows that all too well.

And then Sicheng is getting off him, getting on his feet and reaching out a hand for Ten to take. He does, thighs trembling once he is back up, begging for rest. Sicheng is smiling at him, so bright and blinding Ten can’t help but stare at him, at his eyes masked with mischief and then at his lips, begging to be kisses.

He does kiss him, a soft press of their lips at first, breathing steadily getting back to normal. Sicheng is the one to deepen it, to press harder, kiss him like he means it. Ten loves it, how Sicheng kisses him until it hurts, how he licks across his bottom lip and his lips just part easily like that, letting him in.

Sicheng’s tongue is like honey against him, gliding so easily, deliciously. He sighs into the kiss, rolls his tongue over Sicheng’s and pushes deeper and deeper until he is going down Sicheng’s throat, Sicheng’s moans muffled inside his mouth.

He buries his fingers deep into his hair, pulls Sicheng impossibly closer, their bodies pressed hard against each other. He can feel Sicheng’s dick hard against his hip, can feel himself grow harder with every passing second. Sicheng’s hands go from his waist down to his hips and then to his ass, cupping both cheeks softly before digging his fingers into his flesh.

Ten moans louder than he expected, loud even muffled by the kiss, and in return Sicheng bites on his bottom lip, trying to keep him quiet. It, in fact, does nothing to keep him quiet. He moans just as loudly at the sting, head sipping and body losing its balance when Sicheng starts pushing him towards the mirrored wall.

His back hits the surface with a soft thud, Sicheng’s lips crashing harder against his as he presses him to the mirror. His fingers trace the hem on his pants, easily slipping past the elastic and into his underwear. Sicheng kneads the muscle, the tips of his fingers tracing closer to his rim yet not quite – it makes him gasp, head falling over his shoulder as he pants for air.

“Did you bring condoms?” Sicheng whispers, trying to look him in the eyes as he does so. Ten looks back at him, licking his lips as he nods.

“In my backpack,” his throat feels dry and he almost whines when Sicheng lets go of him in order to walk towards their bags.

It doesn’t take long for him to find it, Ten’s hand slipping into his pants to stroke his dick lazily as he watches Sicheng rip a pack off the strip and walk back to him with an extra one of lube, a grin on his face. Ten knows what he wants to say without him having to say it, the words ingrained in his brain after all the times they’ve fucked before.

He tightens his hold on his dick, holds himself by the base as he watches Sicheng unbutton his jeans with just one hand, only pushing it down enough so he can get his dick out. Ten can already feel the ghost pain of the zipper hitting his ass. He moans, either in anticipation or the pressure of his fingers around his dick – he can’t really tell.

It makes Sicheng grin as he stares him dead in the eyes, as he works a hand on himself, and for a while it is just that – mutual masturbation as they stare each other down. Ten can feel himself grow hot, hotter, sweat beading at his nape and sticking to his hair, muscles shaking when his eyes flicker down to Sicheng’s dick.

He is never going to get tired of looking at Sicheng’s dick, at how pretty it looks flushed red, head glistening with precum. And Ten can’t help it, the way his mouth waters at the mere sight, the way he just wants to drop to his knees and take him past his lips, until Sicheng is shaking and unable to control his moans as he comes down his throat.

God, he would do that in a heartbeat if they had more time and a little more privacy.

Sicheng stops his ministrations in favor of ripping off the foiled packet and rolling down the latex over his dick, and Ten can feel his skin buzz in excitement and his heart beat just a little bit faster in anticipation.

“Like what you see?” Sicheng asks, that stupid smile of his on his lips, and Ten can feel his dick throb with the words. It is obvious enough.

“I’m gonna make myself come if you don’t,” is what he replies instead, his back sliding a bit further down the mirror, legs starting to give way.

“Will it be as satisfying, though?” they both know the answer to this, and Sicheng is still too fucking out of reach, painfully slowly making his way back to where Ten stands right under the air conditioning vent.

His skin burns hot despite the cold air being blown over his head, blood boiling in his veins as he watches through half-lidded eyes as Sicheng comes closer and closer until he is up all over his face, breathing down on him. And Sicheng has gotten so fucking _tall_ that Ten has to tilt his head back to look up at him, at his face, at his devious grin and his tongue wetting his lips.

He wants to kiss him so bad.

Before he even has the opportunity to think about moving, Sicheng’s fingers are in his hair, threading through sweaty locks before closing tightly and pulling him in. he lets himself go, melts into his touch and kisses him back just as hard as Sicheng kisses him, hot and urgent. It’s messy, it’s wet and there is saliva all over his chin, but he doesn’t fucking care.

He gasps when Sicheng parts and spins him around, the mirrored room spinning fast in his field of vision and giving him brief motion sickness. He is presses against the mirror, hot breath fanning over the surface and fogging it up as he pants and gasps for air. This way, he can see how much of a mess he is – how Sicheng looks just as fucked up.

He kind of fucking likes it.

Sicheng’s fingers are warm when they slip past the waistband of his pants and tugs it down along with his underwear, just enough so the elastic presses under the swell of his ass. The thrill of being caught, by a manager or a group member or literally anyone else from the company makes Ten’s heart thunder in his ears and he claws at the mirror when his vision blurs from adrenaline.

“You okay?” Sicheng murmurs, careful, like his fingers aren’t tracing the crack of his ass, ghosting over his perineum and asshole. It’s nice still, to be checked in with, an opening to back down if he wants to.

He doesn’t want to.

“Hurry,” he breathes out because he just wants Sicheng to stop talking, to be quiet except for his breathy moans and low whining noises. He just needs Sicheng to fuck him like he has promised so Ten can finally get this out of his system and move on to something else – alone, with him, whatever Sicheng wants it to be.

They are a force to be reckoned with, inflicting mass destruction wherever they dare set foot in.

“Breathe,” Sicheng tells – commands, and Ten is halfway through breathing in when he pushes two fingers past his rim at once.

Ten moans, unfiltered for a second before he remembers they are going to get caught if he doesn’t keep quiet. It feels so good to finally have Sicheng’s fingers inside him, stretching him open, pressing against his walls.

And he lets Sicheng know, lets his mouth run as Sicheng fucks him with two fingers, then three, tells him how good he feels, how good Sicheng makes him feel, how he loves whenever they are like this. A part of his brain hopes Sicheng knows he’s not just saying that because he is high from arousal – hopes the other knows he really means it.

“Shut up,” is what he gets back instead, just as a fourth finger pushes past his already loose hole and his words dwindle into a dragged moan. He knows Sicheng doesn’t mean it in a mean way and he doesn’t take it like so – he can barely focus on anything except how full he already feels, and how fucking fuller he is going to be once Sicheng puts his dick in his ass.

He doesn’t have time to tell him to hurry again before Sicheng is pulling his fingers out and wiping them clean on Ten’s sweatpants – he feels a little relieved he chose to wear black. There is a pause in which Sicheng squirts more lube over his dick and Ten watches him fist himself through the mirror – he looks hot like this, red dusting his cheeks and spit slicking his lips, brows drawn in concentration.

Likely trying not to come. Ten feels relieved not to be the only one so on edge.

Sicheng’s hand is tight on his hip when he starts aligning himself, the other one holding his cock steady by the base as he slides it down the crack of his ass. He knows Sicheng loves teasing and right now he just wishes he didn’t – he feels like he’s going to burst, certainly going to cream himself from the sheer expectation of getting fucked against this damn mirror.

Sensing his desperation, or maybe just growing desperate himself, Sicheng presses the blunt tip of his cock to Ten’s hole, and Ten can see through his reflection the way his eyes are glued to his fluttering rim, desperately trying to get him in.

He moans, softly, kind of desperately, his breath fogging up the mirror, and this time Sicheng doesn’t hesitate when he presses in. He breaches with ease, his slick cock sliding up Ten’s stretched walls just like he’s done a thousand other times, and Ten feels like he is going to lose his mind.

To feel so full, to feel so good, he is definitely going to lose his mind. His toes curl inside his shoes, fingers trying to hold himself up against the flat surface as his knees start to give way the more Sicheng presses into him. And he doesn’t stop, keeps pushing and pushing until Ten can feel his balls flush against his ass, feel his cock throbbing through the thin latex layer.

“Fuck,” Sicheng breathes against his nape, panting, visibly trying to stay still as Ten adjusts to his size. “ _Fuck_ , Ten, feel so fucking good.”

Ten hums, controlled, reaching a hand back to tangle in Sicheng’s hair, pulling his head forward. It is only when their lips connect again that Ten allows himself to moan into his mouth, walls clenching around Sicheng’s dick. And he loves it, the breathy little noises Sicheng makes, kind of needy, just as desperate as he kisses him, hands pressing bruises down on his hips.

“You can move,” he murmurs, barely audible but still sounding kind of like a cry – needy.

Sicheng does, slow at first, enjoying the slick drag of his cock against his walls. Ten can see the way he looks at him, looks at them – eyes trapped where their bodies connect, where his dick disappears between Ten’s cheek when he thrusts back in. Ten can’t stop the moan that’s punched out of his lungs, what with the way Sicheng is holding onto him, staring at him.

 _Quiet_ , Sicheng reminds him, but it is near fucking impossible with the way he picks up his pace and Ten practically _squeaks_ every time Sicheng’s bones hit against his ass, hard and bruising and _loud_. It is hypocrite of him to ask that of Ten, honestly, because he can barely contain his own moans, deep but loud and constant and making his head spin.

It feels so fucking good, and all he can say is a mess of Sicheng’s name and curse words, eyes slipping shut when Sicheng’s cockhead hits him dead on his prostate. He arches his back, claws at the mirror with the full-body shudder that follows, and he doesn’t even notice he’s being ridiculously loud until one of Sicheng’s hands travel up his throat to rest over his mouth, muffling.

He’s forced to look at them in the mirror, look at himself, Sicheng well aware of the narcissistic twist to his personality, knowing that Ten at times gets off to himself. _Sick_ , Sicheng had muttered once, no heat to his words as he fucked Ten into oblivion in a hotel room somewhere in Shanghai.

 _Sick_ , he mutters right now, and as Ten shifts his gaze from himself up to Sicheng, he finds the other staring right back at him. They’re sweaty, gross, but Sicheng’s dick feels too good as he fucks him open, quick, only bothered to chase that fast relief.

Ten can feel the telltale of his orgasm building up, the tightness in his groin and the numbing of his toes, how fast his heart beats and that fucking tightening in his balls. God, he’s going to come, he just needs Sicheng’s hand on his dick–

He makes note to ask Sicheng later on if he has learned how to read minds, because not a second later Sicheng is wrapping the hand that isn’t muffling his now too loud moans around his cock, big and warm and Ten’s body lurches forward with pleasure. It would be embarrassing how quickly he starts leaking once Sicheng starts jerking him off, but at this point he doesn’t fucking care.

He needs to come, so fucking bad, and he’s not about to complain – especially not when Sicheng is thumbing at the slit, smearing precome, pressing down on the sensitive spot right under the head–

“Fuck,” he whines out, the coiling in his stomach about to snap. His thighs are shaking, and he knows Sicheng knows he is about to come. “Fuck, Chengie–”

Sicheng snaps his hips harder at the name, fists him faster, the messy rhythm making Ten trip over the edge faster than he intended to. He doesn’t get to warn Sicheng when he comes – he just comes hot and hand in his hand, cum seeping through the cracks of his fingers and getting all over his underwear. He thanks all the deities out there for Sicheng’s hand over his mouth – he nearly screams in pleasure with his orgasm, whines loud when Sicheng fucks him through it all and then some.

But Sicheng is moaning, too, fucking him messy as he chases his own release, and Ten could complain from oversensitivity if he even felt it – it doesn’t feel bad – yet. He can feel every throb of Sicheng’s cock in his ass, every breath down his neck, his hand pressing down on his come-covered dick so he doesn’t press it to his hip – and _oh_ , he will definitely get hard again if he keeps this up.

He goes still, for a moment, muscles pulled taught as his hand slips from Ten’s mouth and Ten feels it – the condom warming up in his ass as Sicheng fills it with his cum. Ten can’t take his eyes off them through the mirror – a fucked up mess. It only lasts a moment, though, then Sicheng is back to fucking him, although not as fast, through his mind-numbing orgasm.

Ten is going to be sore, he knows that much – the way Sicheng fucked him open so fast sure to make him feel it for days.

“Please let me suck you off in the shower tonight,” he mumbles instead, sweaty forehead resting against the mirror.

Sicheng laughs, wholeheartedly, arms wrapping around his middle and pulling him into a back hug. Ten doesn’t mind that he still got his dick buried in his ass.

“Didn’t get enough?”

He is mouthing at his nape and Ten can’t help but shudder.

“Mm, I could certainly go for more.”

He tries not to whine when Sicheng pulls out, his hole clenching around nothing. He feels empty, but he doesn’t say a word. They need to clean up and leave – it’s not like they can just sit here, covered in spunk, all damn night. He turns back around, tucks himself in and slides down the mirrored wall and to the floor as he watches Sicheng roll off the condom and wrap it in a bunch of tissues.

“Put it in my bag,” Sicheng makes a face at his words, like he’s grown another head, but Ten only offers him a lazy smile. “We’ll throw it out, you dumb fuck. It’s just better than risking someone seeing it elsewhere.”

Sicheng hums, doing as he’s told, tucking his dick back in his pants before fixing his clothes and hair as best as he can. There is a lazy smile on his lips when he looks down at him, offering a hand – one Ten takes with much delight. His legs feel wobbly and knees entirely weak – he doesn’t know how he is going to make it home.

“Can you walk?” Sicheng asks, ever so sweetly, and Ten tries not to blush.

“Yeah,” he lies, easily.

Sicheng only hums in response, tugging him along towards the door. He looks back briefly, to where Sicheng had him pressed against the mirror – sweat stains the surface, but no more than that. Ten hates the sticky feeling in his pants but he figures he will have to deal with it until they are back home and able to shower.

“I hope you’re, like, mentally prepared to hear Kun ranting about what you did earlier.”

“Oh, honey,” Ten laughs, squeezing sicheng’s hand in his. “I don’t think what I said is the only thing he is gonna be ranting about.”

Sicheng snickers, smile bright on his lips. “Straight to the shower once we get home, then?”

There is a familiar glint in his eyes Ten knows all too well.

“I wouldn’t skip on giving my boy the best head of his life.”

**Author's Note:**

>   
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> 


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